


Getting to Know You, Getting to Know All About You

by dev_chieftain



Category: Tiger & Bunny
Genre: AU, Gen, no powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-12
Updated: 2012-01-12
Packaged: 2017-10-29 10:20:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/318839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dev_chieftain/pseuds/dev_chieftain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For T&B anonmeme:</p><p>Normal world AU. Kotetsu Kaburagi is framed by Albert Maverick for the murder of young up-and-coming supermodel Barnaby Brooks Jr. While in prison, Kaburagi meets Yuri Petrov, convicted serial killer; they become friends, for lack of any others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Getting to Know You, Getting to Know All About You

From the instant he sees Kaburagi's eyes, Yuri knows that this one is going to be trouble.

It's sick in Abas, where the inmates are not permitted to shower (too many men have been killed by their angry peers) but hosed down through the bars of their cells twice a week with the frigid water of the bay. The dank stone of the prison has soaked up the stink of sweat and urine along with the distinct odor of blood and, more subtle, the sweetness of infection, cloying and inescapable. Nobody comes into Abas guilty enough to deserve it, and Yuri should know: he's the man who's given himself the authority to kill the unrighteous, and help the helpless. Whether his peers in the justice system had seen it that way or not, Yuri stands firm in the knowledge that this place isn't fit for life of any kind, and neither the guards, nor the prisoners deserve what they get.

The smell and the pervasive cold are probably getting to Kaburagi, which would explain why his shoulders are shaking, his eyes still doe-wide with shock that he is here. Yuri can size him up by the fading smell of his cologne, the little stain on his shirt sleeve from wiping up his daughter's mess. Family man. Alone, though, because he hasn't any of the smell of a woman on him, and he has that haunted look Yuri knows from his own mother-- someone left behind. Kaburagi stands a little bent, as if ready to apologize at the slightest sign of accusation. He's muscular for someone who otherwise looks like a doormat, broad of shoulder and slender of waist.

The kind of man who gets destroyed, in Abas.

Yuri holds court for him, staring from his desk at the newcomer with a harsh, unrelenting, toothy smile, savoring the shudder that passes over his new cellmate. _Cast in the name of God,_ he decides, _Ye Not Guilty._

When the door closes behind him, Kaburagi flinches again, standing right beside it like a reluctant dog. With his shoulders hunched and his head down, he paints a pretty picture. His beard is full and thick, a little oily in a way that suggests he spent a good month or two in jail before his trial was finished. With his jittery attitude and the faint traces of a bruise fading under his left eye, Yuri can imagine he's already had something of an unpleasant welcome to the penal system.

Well. No time like the present.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mister Kaburagi," he says smoothly, letting his voice do the hand-shaking for him. He would get up, but he's somewhat busy with his weekly cleansing ritual, and can't be bothered to stop it to greet someone who doesn't have enough confidence to demand it. "Yuri Petrov; convicted for serial murder; and no, I will not harm you." he smiles distractedly, plucking the last of the tiny hairs from the back of his right wrist. Drawing in a deep breath through his nostrils, he examines the offending, tiny gray hairs a moment before sighing, shifting his position and transferring the tweezers to his other hand. He begins on his left arm, seeking out the few hairs that have dared to peek back out again since he last plucked them.

Kaburagi smiles humorlessly, ashen, staring, now. "You won't, huh?"

"I do not," Plucking another hair, Yuri chews his lip, "kill innocent men or women."

The fact that he does kill the guilty is not contested, and Kaburagi shuffles to the cot opposite Yuri's, sitting down on it heavily, as if his body is giving up on him now that it's finally sinking in, what's happened to him. He has a nice look to him, under the shaky fear. Gentle-hearted.

Very quietly, Yuri asks him, "Why are you here?"

Kaburagi just shakes his head, his expression crumpling into something miserable. "I wish I knew."

***

Late at night, sometime in Kaburagi's second week, Yuri glances up from his carvings to see Kaburagi pacing. It is well after lights-out, and they should both be asleep. The soft padding of Kaburagi's footsteps is oddly soothing, and Yuri has never slept more than three or four hours in a night without being drugged.

"They say I murdered someone," Kaburagi says at last, the first thing he's said since he came back from the infirmary, nursing his stomach and a jaw swollen almost shut. His voice hisses a little. Maybe he felt guilty, not answering Yuri before. Maybe he has found out something in the interim. He is not a very open person. "Some model, I guess."

"Do you know the name?"

Kaburagi shakes his head.

"What did he look like?"

"He was on the beach for a photoshoot, and I was on-duty." A feral restlessness keeps Kaburagi pacing, rubbing at his stomach protectively, as if that will help speed its healing. "Blond. Long hair, I think. He had glasses on. I tried to get to him in time, but by the time I was there, he'd drowned."

A long pause. Kaburagi's steps slow, stop.

"I couldn't save him."

"It's not your fault," Yuri gets to his feet, sets his pick aside on the desk. He takes a step towards Kaburagi, stops, wonders what the hell he's doing.

Kaburagi just shakes his head, starts pacing again.

***

It should not surprise him that Kaburagi was a life-guard. Yuri only comes to accept that fact when the guards get a little over-enthusiastic during their shower and flood the cell, one week. Not for the first time, Yuri wakes up drowning, wondering why he insists on sleeping on the floor.

With an alacrity that shocks him even more than the water in his lungs, Kaburagi is on his chest, bringing his hands down to jab sharply into Yuri's diaphragm as the water drains away, only an inch left standing inside the cell when the hose finally turns off. For an instant, seeing the determined look in Kaburagi's eyes, feeling that sharp sensation of pain, Yuri wonders if he misjudged and the man is guilty of murder after all.

Then the compressions force his stomach to contract, and he retches up the water clogging his lungs after a few more. Kaburagi sits back on his heels with a relieved expression, gracing Yuri with the first real smile he's seen on the man since-- well, ever, really.

"You okay?" he asks, in that weak shaky voice he has right after waking up, or after being accosted in the yard when they are doing exercise. Something about Kaburagi has made him quite unpopular with guards and inmates alike. Yuri has seen cellmates come and go, and none of them picked up quite so many bruises as Kaburagi has in such a short time.

Yuri has to spit out more water, cough, gag, and spit again before he can answer, wearily pushing himself up off of the concrete with a groan of irritation. He scratches a hand through the soaked stubble on his scalp, frowning, and nods. "A bit hoarse, and I could use a towel," he mutters with a wry smile. "Otherwise, tolerable. Thank you. I wasn't aware you knew CPR."

With an amicable shrug, Kaburagi half-smiles, though it's not as brilliant as his relief was, when he'd thought Yuri was in trouble and been proved wrong. While Yuri himself feels little towards other people, he has noted that Kaburagi is very emotional and somewhat dependent. That friendliness has tempered the abuse being tossed Kaburagi's way; whether they're being paid to hurt him or just want to do it for fun, most of the other inmates seem to eventually come to like Kaburagi and leave him be, after that. It has certainly made Yuri reconsider his usual feelings towards other human beings.

Kaburagi surprises him by revealing the first personal information he has shared voluntarily.

"I was a firefighter, and then a lifeguard, before. Comes in handy." He scratches his chin. They sometimes let him shave, so his beard has not been as oily as that first day, but it's getting long again. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yes."

They sit down on their sodden cots, and Yuri retrieves his tweezers from the desk. It's been a week, and he can feel the itchiness of the hairs peeking out on his thighs. Kaburagi sags against the cell wall, silent, and dozes off.

***  
Martinez slams Kaburagi's face into the wall a third time, and Yuri finally decides to get involved.

It is never wise to be involved in a prison riot.

Martinez is a big man, strong, and having a fake leg is a huge advantage here because it means he can hit hard without feeling anything as consequence. Yuri has fought him successfully before, but only when it was necessary. He is not entirely certain why he deems protecting Kaburagi to be necessary, but he does. An elbow to the spine is a good beginning, but he has to knock Martinez's legs out from under him before he lets go Kaburagi to focus on Yuri.

Kaburagi slumps to the ground without a single sound, and the people around them keep struggling, fighting, hollering. It takes Yuri too long to finish Martinez off. He doesn't like it.

They put him in solitary for a month.

When he returns to his cell, no one will tell him whether Kaburagi is in the infirmary or not. Most of the inmates already didn't like or trust him. Killing Martinez has not made him any friends, it would seem.

Yuri grooms all his body hair, pulling it out until only smooth, cold skin is left.

A week passes.

Two.

No Kaburagi.

No word.

***

Kaburagi sways unsteadily, but the guards must be some he's befriended, because they don't push him forward, and they help him lay down on his cot. Yuri can't really see much, pinned face-first to the wall but doesn't blame them. It's a little surprising they bothered to let him remain Kaburagi's cell-mate, though they seem to be on guard in case he does anything untoward. With his hands twisted up along his back by a bone-crushingly strong grip, Yuri doubts he'd make any attempts on Kaburagi's life even if he wanted to.

When they finally let him go, Kaburagi is resting on his cot, one arm subconsciously slung over his stomach to try to protect it from incoming blows.

"You look awful," Yuri tells him flatly, hating how pale and fragile he looks, hating the shadows under his eyes and the fact that he's obviously lost some muscle, sick and drugged to keep him from agitating his wounds.

The answer is so matter-of-fact, Yuri suspects that Kaburagi might yet be coming down off of the morphine high. "I had a skull fracture." He squints at Yuri, as if it is hard to see. "S'better now."

Yuri sits at the edge of Kaburagi's cot, and can't help sinking his fingers into the man's long-unshaven beard, frowning at its length. Chuckling, Kaburagi cracks open one eye. He has the audacity to smile, and Yuri scowls at him.

"Sorry, I know y'hate hair."

"It's fine."

"Hey, Yuri?" Kaburagi never gives his first name, but always calls Yuri 'Yuri'. It is one of those annoying things about him. Yuri leans in, brows raised to show that he is listening. "Are you okay?"

"I killed Martinez," he admits, feeling oddly apologetic. "I've been in solitary. Nothing new."

Kaburagi gropes blindly for Yuri's hand and, when Yuri supplies it, squeezes once, seeming glad for the contact. "Only you'd say that."

Then Kaburagi drifts off and is silent for a long time.

Yuri watches him sleeping.

***

It is too cold to be February, but they are in the yard, doing tai-chi. Kaburagi is alarmingly good at it, as Yuri has discovered at the expense of his comfort.

He finds himself shoved back so hard he flies into a wall, bruising his spine, and it would be irritating if Kaburagi's shocked expression wasn't so comical. Wincing, Yuri regains his feet, rubbing petulantly at his spine as Kaburagi dashes over, apologizing profusely.

"I'm not hurt," Yuri lies. He is not hurt badly, which is close enough. "Did you study this before?"

"Yeah, with my dad." Kaburagi gets that quiet look he always gets about his family. Expecting nothing more, as usual, Yuri is about to turn away when Kaburagi adds, almost shyly, "My daughter wrote me a letter, since they aren't letting my folks visit me."

Yuri had guessed, all those months ago-- is it a year now?-- that Kaburagi must have a child. He hadn't had any basis for assuming it was a daughter, but the knowledge that he was right is somehow gratifying, and he wonders what it means, that Kaburagi is telling him this. "What did she say?" He is surprised to feel his own voice get gentle, turned quiet by nostalgia and regret.

Well, it's not like his mother would write him, if she even could, is it?

Instead of answering, Kaburagi pulls out the letter in question, wordlessly handing it to Yuri. He hesitates, a little reluctant to read something so private, but decides that Kaburagi wants him to, so it is probably not a breach of privacy.

 _Dear daddy,_

 _I hope you can come home soon. Grandma is taking care of me and Uncle and Grandma and I all love and miss you. At school, Tony and I have been making a club to stop crime. We are very good detectives, but maybe not good enough to save you yet. Please wait for us, I promise we won't leave you there forever._

 _I love you,_

 _Kaede_

When he looks up, Yuri can see the pride warring with anguish on Kaburagi's face, and doesn't know what to do. He folds up the letter very gently, and passes it back, and licks his lips and puts his hands in his pockets, meeting Kaburagi's eyes. "Your daughter," he says earnestly, "has excellent handwriting."

That lingering sadness is blown away by a thunderstruck expression for a half-second, and then Kaburagi laughs so hard he has to clutch at his gut, tears rolling down his face. "You--!" He keeps laughing, until Yuri starts to laugh too, incapable of ignoring that infectious chuckle.

***

Kaburagi is sobbing when Yuri wakes up. He is cross to be awake at three in the morning, when he was getting more sleep than he ordinarily is capable of getting, but then he worries, and goes to Kaburagi's cot.

"What's wrong?"

Incapable of speaking, Kaburagi just shoves his hands over his eyes and shakes his head, trying to stifle the sound of his misery.

"Kaburagi, what's wrong?"

He has this inescapable urge to pry Kaburagi's hands from his face, and does. The tears lend a sallow, lonely quality to Kaburagi's normally unremarkable face. The laugh lines and crow's feet that Yuri thinks suit him so well are invisible in the dark.

"Kaburagi," Yuri says again, and pulls him up, holds him.

"I miss her." Gulping for air, struggling to stop the little tremors, to keep breathing normally, Kaburagi laughs. It becomes another sob, shakes them both from their core. His arms are so warm around Yuri, and desperate. His beard, still thick, is a tickle on Yuri's shoulder, where he rests his head. "I miss her so much."

Yuri rests his chin on the top of Kaburagi's head, and sighs. "I know."


End file.
